March 9 2017

Walk of Shame Pre-Release Blitz @_LaurenLayne @readloveswept @TastyBookTours  

The City’s HOTTEST Cold War!
WALK OF SHAME
a Love Unexpectedly novel
Lauren Layne
Releasing April 18th, 2017
Loveswept

 

Sparks fly between a misunderstood New York socialite and a cynical divorce lawyer in this lively standalone rom-com from the USA Today bestselling author of Blurred Lines and Love Story.

Pampered heiress Georgianna Watkins has a party-girl image to maintain, but all the shopping and clubbing is starting to feel a little bit hollow—and a whole lot lonely. Though Georgie would never admit it, the highlights of her week are the mornings when she comes home at the same time as her uptight, workaholic neighbor is leaving to hit the gym and put in a long day at the office. Teasing him is the most fun Georgie’s had in years—and the fuel for all her naughtiest daydreams.

Celebrity divorce attorney Andrew Mulroney doesn’t have much time for women, especially spoiled tabloid princesses who spend more time on Page Six than at an actual job. Although Georgie’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s also everything Andrew resents: the type of girl who inherited her penthouse instead of earning it. But after Andrew caps one of their predawn sparring sessions with a surprise kiss—a kiss that’s caught on camera—all of Manhattan is gossiping about whether they’re a real couple. And nobody’s more surprised than Andrew to find that the answer just might be yes.

 

Lauren Layne is the New York Times bestselling author of over a dozen romantic comedies.

A former e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career.

She lives in midtown Manhattan with her high-school sweetheart, where she writes smart romantic comedies with just enough sexy-times to make your mother blush. In LL’s ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.

 

 

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February 17 2017

I Do, I Don’t Surprise Series Cover Reveal @_laurenlayne @TastyBookTours @readloveswept

Tasty Book Tours Presents…
 
READY TO RUN
I Do, I Don’t (Book 1)
Lauren Layne
Releasing Aug 22nd, 2017
Loveswept
The Bachelor meets The Runaway Bride in this addictive romance novel about a reality TV producer falling for her would-be star: a Montana heartthrob who wants nothing to do with the show.
Jordan Carpenter thinks she’s finally found the perfect candidate for Jilted, a new dating show about runaway grooms: Luke Elliott, a playboy firefighter who’s left not one but three brides at the altar. The only problem? Luke refuses to answer Jordan’s emails or return her calls. Which is how she ends up on a flight to Montana to recruit him in person. It’s not Manhattan but at least the locals in Lucky Hollow seem friendly . . . except for Luke, who’s more intense—and way hotter—than the slick womanizer Jordan expected.
Eager to put the past behind him, Luke has zero intention of following this gorgeous, fast-talking city girl back to New York.
But before he can send her packing, Jordan’s everywhere: at his favorite bar, the county fair, even his exes’ book club. Annoyingly, everyone in Lucky Hollow seems to like her—and deep down, she’s starting to grow on him too. But the more he fights her constant pestering, the more Luke finds himself wishing that Jordan would kick off her high heels and make herself comfortable in his arms.
~*~

 

RUNAWAY GROOM
I Do, I Don’t (Book 2)
Lauren Layne
Releasing Sept 12th, 2017
Loveswept
For one charming playboy, getting cast on a Bachelor-esque reality TV show is the shock of a lifetime—until he finds love where he least expects it. And now the chase is on!
Gage Barrett’s reputation as a ladies’ man has been greatly exaggerated, but none of that matters after a drunken bet lands
him on Jilted, a reality TV show that matches runaway grooms with wannabe brides. Now he’s stuck at a Hawaiian resort with nineteen women competing to drag him back to the altar—and one contestant who’s even more miserable than he
is. Gage has no idea how feisty, independent Ellie Wright wound up in the cast, but it’s obvious she hates his guts. And if there’s one thing Gage likes, it’s a challenge. . . .
Ellie can’t believe she let her best friend talk her into exchanging her dignity for a glorified bikini contest. Still, she could use the exposure—her business is struggling—and she’ll probably be one of the first to get eliminated anyway. But Gage isn’t the shallow jerk Ellie anticipated—and he’s in no rush to send her home. As stolen kisses turn into secret trysts, she finds herself losing track of what’s real and what’s for the camera. With the wedding finale looming, this runaway groom is tempting Ellie to start believing in storybook endings.
 ~*~

 

JUST RUN WITH IT
I Do, I Don’t (Book 3)
Lauren Layne
Releasing Oct 24th, 2017
Loveswept
A good girl takes her wild twin’s place on a provocative dating show and meets the man of her dreams . . . off-camera . . .  in this charming rom-com about loving the one person who can’t love you back.
High school science teacher Violet Simmons has spent her entire life helping her twin sister out of one scrape after another,
but this time, Zoe’s outdone herself. After signing on for the hit reality show Jilted, Zoe ends up pregnant, and it’s Violet who finds herself in the exquisite New Orleans mansion with twenty guys trying to coax her down the aisle. Everyone buys Violet’s cover, including the one man she wishes would see right through it: Bennett Chapman, the TV executive who looks good in a suit—and even better out of it.
Bennett’s always expected to take over the network from his father. Now, to seal the deal, he needs record ratings from
their tackiest show, which means the ditzy star needs to walk down the aisle with one of her meathead suitors. But Zoe Simmons is no bimbo. She’s too smart, too sarcastic, and far too alluring. The more they butt heads—and lock lips—the
more Bennett wants her all to himself. And when Zoe drops a real bombshell, Bennett is forced to choose: between the job he’s destined for, or the woman who’s stolen his heart.

 

Lauren Layne is the New York Times bestselling author of over a dozen romantic comedies.

A former e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career.

She lives in midtown Manhattan with her high-school sweetheart, where she writes smart romantic comedies with just enough sexy-times to make your mother blush. In LL’s ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.

 

 

February 23 2016

Atone Release Blast @BethYarnall @TastyBookTours @readloveswept

Atone

Recovered Innocence #2

By: Beth Yarnall

 

Atone

 

Room With Books encourages our readers to follow the tour and leave comments.  

 

Releasing February 23, 2016
Loveswept

 

About the Book

Beth Yarnall’s sexy and emotional Recovered Innocence series continues as two broken souls discover that keeping their hands off each other is even harder than facing their demons.

Beau: Six years. That’s how long I spent behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit—the murder of the woman I loved. Now I’m free, but life on the outside is a different kind of prison. I don’t know who I am or who I want to be. At least I have my sister, Cora. She never stopped believing in me. She even got me a job at the private investigation agency that cleared my name. And then Vera Swain walks into Nash Security and Investigations and kicks my world on its ass.

Vera: There’s only one thing that would make me come out of hiding after two years on the run: finding my sister. I made the mistake of telling a monster about her, the same monster who beat me and broke me. Now I’m forced to confide in Beau Hollis of Nash Security and Investigations. He looks at me like he knows me—the real me. He sees too much, makes me feel too much. The pleasure he offers is exciting and addictive. But I can’t fall for him . . . because my love could get us both killed.

Goodreads ~~ Goodreads Series

Purchase Links

Amazon | B&N | Google PlayiTunes | Kobo

 

ATONE_Cover

 

Excerpt

Cora backs out the front door of her garage apartment, her arms full. I jog up the walk and relieve her of the files she’s carrying. She locks the door and turns to me, a big smile on her face. It gets me every time. A combination of joy and surprise like she can’t believe I’m really there. I can’t believe it either. I hope I never get used to this feeling, or to that smile. I hope she doesn’t either.

I follow her down the walk to her car and put her files in the trunk. I stand just in time to see the car keys flying at my face and catch them before they smack into my nose.

“You have to practice sometime,” she says. “Drive us to work.”

I haven’t driven in more than six years. My license expired while I was in prison. My parents sold my car.

“Are you sure?”

She opens the passenger door and climbs in with a wink. I let out a frosty breath in the cool morning air. This is one more thing I have to relearn in my life outside. I slide into the driver’s seat and adjust it for my bigger body and longer legs.

“The mirrors too,” Cora reminds me.

It’s like I’m taking driver’s ed all over again, but with my little sister as my teacher. I hope driving isn’t as hard as riding a bike. That shit took me too many tries to get right. I’m wobbly like a kid riding without training wheels for the first time. Bike riding is a fucked-up metaphor for my life now. Everything is an uphill struggle and scary as fuck. I suck so bad at it, I wonder sometimes if I shouldn’t just commit a crime for real this time so I can go back to the predictability and reliability of prison life. I won’t, but the thought is scarily tempting sometimes.

You wouldn’t think being free would be so hard.

I do as Cora instructs and start the car. She coaches me the whole way. I’m relieved when we arrive safely. Driving is a hell of a lot easier than riding a bike. We get out of the car and head into the offices of Nash Security and Investigation. I owe Cora and everyone in this place everything. If Mr. Nash and his son, Leo, hadn’t agreed to help Cora find the bastard who killed Cassandra and worked to set me free, I’d still be sitting in a cell. How do you repay someone who rescued you from hell and gave you your life back?

I juggle Cora’s files that I retrieved from the trunk, open the door for her, and follow her inside. The receptionist, Savannah, looks up at Cora, then does a double take when she spies me trailing behind my sister. Her first, fleeting glance is full of female appreciation that quickly morphs into avid curiosity tinged with fear. She doesn’t want to be attracted to an ex-con, but I’d put money on her panties being soaked at the thought of fucking me. I’m a walking, talking good girl’s bad-boy dream. I’m the guy she bangs once or twice on the quiet just so she can brag about it later to her friends.

I grin at Savannah, following it with a wink and a lick of the lips. She gasps and presses her hands to her chest. Her cheeks bloom red. If we were alone I bet I could take her right there on top of her desk. Wouldn’t even have to pull her panties all the way down, just push up her skirt and pull them aside. She’d shower after, feeling dirty, and later she’d jack off, reliving it. I’m not even the slightest bit tempted by her or any other woman I’ve met since I got out.

Another way my life’s fucked up.

I set Cora’s files down where she directs me to. Her office is small, with two desks in the middle facing each other. It’s an odd arrangement, but Cora likes it this way, I guess.

She gestures to the desk opposite hers. “Have a seat.” She sifts through her pile of files until she finds what she’s looking for, then pulls it out and comes around to where I’m sitting. “I thought maybe I’d start you off with some simple searches. See if you like the work.” She twitches the mouse, bringing the computer screen to life. “These are the search sites we use.”

Clicking on the top three bookmarked sites, she brings them up, explaining how they use them and what info the sites can provide. She has me do some easy searches, then leaves me on my own. I don’t suck at it. I’m actually quite good. And I like the work. I’m halfway through the searches Cora wanted me to do when Savannah sticks her head in the doorway.

“Vera Swain, your ten o’clock, is here,” she tells Cora. Her gaze darts to me, then back to Cora.

“Thanks, Savannah. Want to sit in?” Cora asks me. “Take a break from the computer?”

“Sure.” I stand and stretch.

Savannah jumps and squeaks, then disappears from the doorway.

Cora’s mouth bends into a frown. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her lately.”

“Don’t you?”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“Leave it.”

I follow Cora into the reception area. Savannah blocks whoever it is she’s talking to so I can’t see who it is, but whoever they are, they’re small, much smaller than Savannah’s five-nine frame. Savannah shifts, revealing a pastel confection of a young woman about Cora’s age.

All lace and silk, she’s sweet looking in her soft colors like she just walked out of a Sunday church service. But the look in her eyes is wary . . . suspicious . . . jaded, reminding me of angry, hard prison stares. This chick’s seen some shit. More than that, she’s experienced some shit, has maybe even done some shit. She’s a survivor. This I understand. I recognize her in the same way I recognize the new man that stares back at me in the mirror.

Her costume is nearly perfect. I bet if I sniffed her she’d smell like baby powder and lemons. I edge closer to her. She catches me with a sudden flick of a glance, freezing me where I stand. Everything about her shouts Back the fuck off. It only makes me want to draw closer. Who is she? Who or what made her this way? And why does she look at me like she knows who I am? Not the TV-news-segment me, but the real me, the Beau deep down inside.

For the first time since I got out of prison I don’t feel alone. There really are others out there like me. One of them is standing mere feet in front of me, regarding me with the same guarded, expectant look I’m wearing.

And she’s beautiful.

 

About the Author

Beth YarnallBeth Yarnall writes romantic suspense, mysteries, and the occasional hilarious Tweet. She discovered romance novels in middle school and hasn’t stopped writing since. For a number of years, she made her living as a hairstylist and makeup artist and co-owned a salon. Somehow hairstylists and salons always seem to find a way into her stories. Yarnall lives with her husband, two sons, and their rescue dog in Orange County, California, where she’s hard at work on her next novel.

Connect with the Author

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

Giveaway

$25.00 Amazon eGift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Tasty

 

Category: Release | Comments Off on Atone Release Blast @BethYarnall @TastyBookTours @readloveswept
February 16 2016

Hidden Heat Release Blast @carlaswafford @TastyBookTours @readloveswept

Hidden Heat

 

Brothers of Mayhem #1

By: Carla Swafford

 

Hiddenheat

 

ROOM WITH BOOKS encourages our readers to follow the tour and leave comments.

 

Releasing February 16, 2016
Loveswept

 

About the Book

Sizzling with passion and suspense, perfect for fans of Joanna Wylde and Julie Ann Walker, the Brothers of Mayhem series revs up as a headstrong beauty faces off against an outlaw motorcycle club—and falls for the bad boy she never saw coming.

Print

Cassidy Ryder refuses to be intimidated by anyone, even the hell-raising, hard-drinking Brothers of Mayhem. The daughter of their former president, she’s not above smashing a few heads to keep her teenage brother safe. But when Cassidy’s big mouth gets her in trouble, the only thing that saves her is some quick thinking from the Brothers’ bartender. He’s commanding and strong, and as smooth as the whiskey he pours: the ultimate temptation for a girl who swore she’d never be a biker’s plaything.

But Thorn Savalas is no ordinary biker. He’s a cop, and he’s worked too hard earning the Brothers’ trust to blow his cover over a female—even one who rocks a pair of jeans like Cassidy. The only way to protect her is by claiming she’s his old lady. Trouble is, Thorn can’t just pretend. He wants Cassidy, and every scorching touch tells him she feels the same. But acting on their hottest fantasies could leave them both exposed . . . even if nothing else has ever felt so real.

Goodreads ~~ Goodreads Series Link

 

 

HIDDEN HEAT_cover

 

Excerpt

Cassidy Ryder swung the bat, testing the weight and reach, as she marched around the line of motorcycles. Wrinkling her nose, she ignored the sharp, pungent smell of marijuana drifting across her path.

Huddled in the shade beneath the building’s eaves, men with greasy hair and beards puffed on tightly rolled joints and eyed her with mild curiosity. As long as she stayed away from their well-loved bikes, they’d let her move on without interference.

Her body trembled with suppressed fury. She almost wished they’d try to stop her. Anything to give her a reason to release the pressure building inside. With a snort of derision, she straightened her back and stalked into the Skull and Bones Bar.

The thumping beat of Kid Rock blasted from the speakers, competing with the rowdy conversations shaking the large, smoky room. Though mostly rural, Sand County had a law against smoking in any public establishment. In pure defiance, a blue-gray haze hovered around the dim bulbs spotlighting the long shelves of liquor and above two pool tables in the back.

She hesitated. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she ignored the tall, lanky bartender strolling along behind the counter and heading her way. The rest of the crowd ignored her entrance. Did they often see people carrying a bat into the place?

She didn’t care. Time for someone to listen to her.

With a swing of her whole body, she brought the bat down, sweeping several glasses from the long bar. The loud pops and tinkling of broken glasses immediately quieted the room just as Kid’s “American Bad Ass” faded out. Several of the leather-and-denim clad men stood and stepped toward her.

She lifted the bat for another swing.

“Damn it to hell! Wait!” The bartender slid over the top of the counter to stand in front of her. “What the hell are you doing?”

Speaking of badass, with his broad shoulders and tats down both arms, he’d draw anyone’s attention just by entering a room. But add in the dark hair cut tight on the sides, long on top and brushed back to his nape, he especially caught the eye of every woman in the place. She’d noticed too, but she had more important things on her mind.

Her arm muscles tensed as she pulled her weapon higher over her shoulder.

He stopped a bat length away and raised his hands. “Cassidy . . .” He hesitated as if he waited for her reaction to the name. Was she that forgettable? She’d been there several times over the last month, to drag her brother back home. When her eyes narrowed, he continued. “Whatever has you riled up, can we talk about it?”

Emphasizing each word, she pointed the bat as if it were a finger. “I came in here yesterday and asked, real polite, if you or anyone here had seen my brother. Each one of you looked me in the face and lied. This morning, I get a call, telling me he was seen yesterday, hanging out back, talking with Stonewall.” She glanced around, keeping the bartender in her peripheral view. “Where’s the bastard? I want answers about my brother’s whereabouts.” Proud of how her voice remained even and carried across the room, she jutted out her chin. What would they lie about next?

The Brothers of Mayhem Motorcycle Club never took kindly to threats. She didn’t care. Violence was the only way they would respect her, and she was prepared to do more, if that’s what it took to bring her little brother back home. Storm had never stayed gone this long.

“Put the bat down before you get hurt.” The bartender’s soft command sounded so reasonable.

Screw reasonable. She’d been fair and understanding for the last three days while she searched for Storm. Her patience had disappeared with the only member of her family worth a damn. No way would she fail him again.

“I will when you—”

Brawny arms wrapped around her chest and squeezed. She gasped for breath as someone hauled her against his chest and off her feet. The bartender grabbed the bat from her loosened grip and threw it to the side. It hit the floor with a loud clanking.

“Little girl, we don’t know where your brother’s at. We didn’t lie about that.” The deep voice of the club’s VP, Mac McGee, came from above her head as he squeezed again in warning. “Maybe I need to teach you some fucking manners.”

She squeaked from the pain, her ribs near the breaking point. With little blood circulation reaching below her waist, her kicks were no more than taps to the mountain restraining her. She pushed at the tight arms as her head dug into his sternum.

“Please,” she pleaded with a hiss of precious air.

“Mac, let her go. I’ll handle her.” The bartender rested his elbows on the countertop behind him, crossed his long legs at the ankles, and waited.

The big guy released her so quickly she barely caught herself before falling at their feet. Asshole. Taking cautious breaths in case of a cracked rib, she regained a little of her composure.

Handle her? In his dreams. Shoulders thrust back and head held up, she asked, “Where’s my brother?”

The bartender sighed in frustration. “You’re the most hardheaded woman. Mac told you yesterday, and today is no different. We have no idea where your brother is.”

Then it struck her what the big guy said a moment earlier. She turned and looked into the angry bloodshot eyes of Mac. “What did you mean when you said ‘We didn’t lie about that’? What did you lie about?”

With a shake of his massive, shaggy head, the big guy reached for her, but the bartender knocked her to the side and stepped between them, one arm out to keep her back. “Go on. I’ll take it from here.”

“Never could stand bossy old ladies,” Mac drawled with a sneer.

She leaned over the bartender’s arm and shouted, “Who are you calling old lady? I’m no one’s old lady! You old fart!” She knew what he meant, that it had nothing to do with age, but with belonging to someone. At the age of twenty-one, she refused to let anyone call her that. At sixty-one, she would damn well still refuse.

“Who would want you as their old lady, with that bitchy attitude,” Mac said, more as fact than a question. “You need your ass beaten.” Then he walked away as he raised one finger in her direction.

“Yeah, but at least I look human and not like a grizzly bear, what with all that fur on your face!” How lame.

She really needed to shut up before they got tired of her mouth. As a kid she’d grown up around surly men like Mac, but her father’s reputation had protected her from worse. Besides, what about her promise to be a good girl? Her foster mother tried her best to teach her self-control. Yet Cassidy often let her temper get the better of her. Remembering how her hissy fit had caused her brother to leave home in a huff the other night, a sharp pain roiled in her stomach.

As she opened her mouth to apologize, the bartender’s hand cupped the back of her head, clutched a handful of hair, and twisted. At the same time, his other hand covered her mouth.

“Shh,” he said softly. Concern darkened his blue eyes as he shook his head.

Bending her back, he caused her to lose balance but held her tight. Her feet remained on the floor as he aligned his body with hers, almost touching his nose to hers.

“If you don’t shut your trap, you’re going to get more than you asked for,” he whispered. “Your brother isn’t here. He’s turning eighteen in a couple days, right?” Without giving her a chance to answer, he added, “Then he’ll be an adult. At least one who can vote and die for his country. So, I think it’s in your best interest to go home. When he’s ready to talk, he’ll show up.”

She wasn’t sure why it happened. The last few days had been stressful. She wasn’t one of those girls who did it at the drop of a hat, but her eyes welled with tears.

“Ah, shit. Don’t do that,” he said between gritted teeth. He moved his hand from her mouth, pressing her cheek to a broad shoulder as he lifted her upright.

Unable to stop, she dug trembling fingers into his leather vest and sobbed.

Why is he being so nice?

The strong hand in her hair remained, but the other one rubbed and patted her back. He acted as if he had all of the time in the world while she bawled like a little kid.

“Shh. Everything will be okay.”

She glanced up and her heart skipped a beat. The guy had a gorgeous smile; there was even a dimple beneath the stubble on his face.

A gravelly voice nearby said, “Get me a beer, Thorn, before you fuck her.”

Her body stiffened.

Stonewall had arrived.

Purchase Links

Amazon | B&N | Google PlayiTunes | Kobo

 

Carla

 

About the Author

Carla Swafford loves romance novels, action/adventure movies, and men, and her books reflect that. She’s married to her high school sweetheart and lives in Alabama.

Connect with the Author

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

Giveaway

$25.00 Amazon eGift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Category: Release | Comments Off on Hidden Heat Release Blast @carlaswafford @TastyBookTours @readloveswept